Professionalism, Utmost Sincerity

The one giving off that gentle, beautiful voice was actually an enormous jet-black carp. In this stretch of deep water, it was like a spirit within, utterly ignoring the violent undercurrents.

The White Jiao opened its dragon eyes, fury filling them.

"Go. Hurry to the mortal world and bring your father's dragon pearl back. If you can recover it, I shall grant you jiao dragon essence blood and help you transform into a jiao dragon!"

The black carp swayed its tail, its inwardly tranquil voice answering meekly, "Father, how can your daughter find the whereabouts of that dragon pearl?"

At those words, the White Jiao raised its dragon head high. A frost-colored dragon scale fell from above its head and landed upon the black carp.

"I grant you a life-scale. So long as you come within a certain range of the dragon pearl, you will surely sense its location. And should anything go wrong, this life-scale can take one death in your stead!"

The dragon scale instantly settled upon the black carp. A dense surge of spiritual energy erupted around it, and in the blink of an eye, it vanished into the undercurrents.

At the foot of Phoenix-Tail Mountain, Zhang Jian headed toward the commandery city with over a dozen sturdy escorts guarding the carts. On the other side of the official road, Zhang Kui remained in the mountain stronghold with his troops, awaiting the Zhang family's second batch of reinforcements and planning to transport the wealth from the mountains away.

Fengyang Commandery City lay several days' journey from Phoenix-Tail Mountain.

With a group of burdens trailing behind him, Zhang Jian's pace had been slowed. Still, he was in no hurry.

At present, all his attention was focused on the Wind-Walking Technique. With the surplus Wind-Walking Talismans in his hand, he repeatedly sensed the traces of wind within the air. Gradually, the spiritual power beneath his feet seemed to pierce through the wind in the void, turning his body into a wisp of breeze. Though he sometimes veered crookedly about, he had begun to perceive a certain rhythm.

Zhang Jian had long known that wind was fundamentally the result of air being heated by sunlight, creating regional changes in air pressure and setting the air in motion. In other words, so long as he strove to sense the rhythm of changing air pressure, imitated it repeatedly, and found its underlying patterns, he would surely accelerate his comprehension of the Wind-Walking Technique.

To Zhang Jian, the cultivation orthodoxy was likewise a field of study. It was merely deeper and more obscure than the path of the civil examinations or the path of a martial artist's internal cultivation.

Yet as long as one was skilled at thinking, one could surely turn those hazy, intangible theories into concrete information, thereby swiftly improving the speed of one's spell cultivation.

Zhang Jian called this professionalism.

As for the few sorcerers he had encountered before, none of them seemed particularly professional in Zhang Jian's eyes.

Of course, it could also be called a heart of utmost sincerity, a heart devoted to the Dao. The wording was simply different.

At that moment, Zhang Jian's gaze flickered. Having grasped the principle of thermal expansion and contraction, and with the Wind-Walking Technique appropriately reducing the effects of gravity upon him, after several attempts, his body gradually rose from the horse's back and began hovering steadily four or five meters above the ground.

With a thought, several Wind-Walking Talismans adhered to his legs and feet. His body shot forth like an arrow loosed from the string, his speed clearly increasing by a great deal.

He simply could not reach a precise location accurately.

"Success!"

Within the trees, Zhang Jian brushed the leaves clinging to his clothes, a broad smile blooming in his eyes.

When spiritual power was used properly, its efficiency could sometimes increase many times over, and the destructive force it produced was utterly different as well.

The sturdy escorts watching this scene were even more astounded, as if they had witnessed a deity.

Rumors had long circulated through the Zhang family that their eldest young lord was a "banished immortal descended to the mortal world." What they had just seen left them utterly convinced.

The dozen or so men were brimming with excitement. To serve a Zhang family such as this, they could be considered subordinates of a banished immortal, and they felt honored beyond measure.

Zhang Jian ignored the big-headed soldiers who had begun amusing themselves and continued adjusting his understanding of the Wind-Walking Technique.

Once he cultivated both the Wind-Walking Technique and the Thunder-Walking Formula to a certain level, he could attempt to unite wind and thunder. Then, the destructive force he could unleash would rise drastically.

Just then, a hesitant voice pulled Zhang Jian from his state of intense concentration.

"Eldest Young Lord, it is already getting late. The brothers are rather tired. Could we find a place to rest for the night, light a fire, and cook something?"

The speaker was an old soldier named Hu Shan. Zhang Jian remembered him because among the five hundred soldiers dispatched by the Zhang family, Hu Shan was one of the oldest. It was said that in his youth, he had served in the imperial border army and had been a battle-hardened veteran. Once he reached a certain age, he chose to return to his ancestral home.

But by the time he returned, there were scarcely any relatives left in his family. It so happened that the Zhang family was recruiting guards, so he joined them, at least earning enough to support himself.

Zhang Jian nodded, and the group immediately prepared to make do for the night in a dilapidated earthen temple beside a mountain hollow.

It was a collapsed mountain god temple.

It was utterly dilapidated. Even the mountain god's gilded statue had been weathered by wind and rain until its features could no longer be seen.

The mountain god's head had even fallen to the ground.

However, Zhang Jian learned the name of the place from the sturdy escorts. It was called Phoenix Nest Mountain.

The old soldier Hu Shan was exceedingly talkative. As he gathered firewood and ignited some dried grass to smoke out the mosquitoes, snakes, and ants in the temple, he chuckled. "Eldest Young Lord, I heard the older generation say that a phoenix truly appeared on Phoenix Nest Mountain back then. People often heard beautiful birdsong in the mountain, and that sound was incomparably moving. In those days, scholars from villages ten li around would often come here to observe or sit in quiet meditation!"

"The Phoenix Nest Mountain god temple was nothing like this back then either. The incense offerings were flourishing, and the crossbeams were so huge that even several people joining arms could not encircle them. When I was little, my mother even specially brought me here to offer incense."

A look of reminiscence surfaced on Hu Shan's dark face, along with a trace of melancholy.

By the fire, everyone sat far away, for the heat waves were oppressive.

They had only lit the fire to drive away wild beasts, not truly to ward off the cold. On such a midsummer night, this pile of firewood burned far too fiercely.

One of the sturdy escorts could not help asking, "Old Hu, then how did this mountain god temple end up like this?"

Looking around, they saw the mountain god's gilded statue toppled over and rubble scattered everywhere. It was a sight of boundless desolation.

Hu Shan casually set down the firewood in his hands and shook his head. "I don't know either. I only heard that strange things happened around here and quite a few people died. Later, everyone was so frightened that they no longer dared come. My mother would not allow me to ask about this place either. She said she was afraid it would bring bad things upon us!"

Hearing this, the young soldier could not help muttering, "Where could there be so many... strange things?"

After the words left his mouth, he could not help glancing toward Zhang Jian. Just then, a chill wind blew over, and he instinctively tightened his clothes around himself, fear rising within him. Seeing this, the many sturdy escorts burst into laughter.

By the bonfire, Zhang Jian also smiled faintly.

His gaze swept over the severed head of the mountain god behind him. With his spiritual senses, he had not detected the slightest trace of spiritual energy within the broken gilded statue.

After eating their dry rations, everyone soon fell asleep one after another, leaving only several veteran soldiers to stand watch.

Zhang Jian, meanwhile, used meditation in place of sleep. Yet in the middle of the night, his eyes suddenly opened.

Shriek!

In that instant, he suddenly heard an incomparably clear phoenix cry!